


Protest

by Geenee27



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Did I Say I Do, F/M, MFMM Year of Tropes, november 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-02-15 07:05:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13025790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Geenee27/pseuds/Geenee27
Summary: This is an idea that popped into my head when I first heard of the MFMM November 2017 'Unexpected Married' Trope but was not going to follow through with it because it was too evil. However, as the fandom has been talking of ignoble twins of late, I blame this unnecessary story on mine.





	Protest

Senior Detective Inspector Jack Robinson wrote his little pigeon scratch signature with a flourish at the bottom of the report he had just read, closed the folder and added it to the teetering pile in the out tray on the right side of his desk. His eyes were tired as was the rest of him and he closed them for a brief rest. When the time was right, he was going to take his superior up on his suggestion of taking some time away.

He sighed and turned back to a similar pile of folders by his left hand. Having spent the previous week almost entirely on the Pandarus case and it's catastrophic fallout, he now had to catch up on all the deferred investigations that had needed his attention. Fortunately, Russell Street had taken over the enormous task of untangling the whole sorted mess that was the white slaver case and the fall of George Sanderson and Sydney Fletcher.

The Inspector knew he was emotionally compromised as well. It had been a roller coaster for him the last few days, hurt for Sanderson's betrayal, sadness for Rosie, fear over almost losing Phryne again and then their raw meeting one late night at the bottom of the stairs at Wardlow. He was afraid of withdrawing again as he had after the war; this last year had been an awaking for him, to the point he had almost found his old fight and did not want to lose himself again.

His mind had drifted so completely that he initially did not register the front door of the station opening and the familiar sound of feminine heels making their way across the lobby floor. Jack smiled, he sure could use a friendly face and her's was definitely one he would love to see right now. It had been a few days since the dramatic showdown, he and Phryne both keeping a distance, perhaps waiting for the dust to settle before feeling a little more balanced so that they could face each other.

There were voices outside his door and he could imagine the constable's futile attempts to slow down the unstoppable force that was Phryne Fisher. The footsteps did not slow down as he expected them not to and when the door to his office flew open he turned his impassive expression to greet the onslaught of firs and feathers and red, red lipstick. He was in for a surprise.

Rosie Sanderson strode into his office, her expression almost more distraught than the last time he had seen her. Jack jumped up clumsily and hurried around the desk, arms out. She waved him away, as if his attempt to comfort her was the most unwelcome thing in the world.

“We need to talk, Jack. I am beside myself with the thought that this whole fiasco could get any worse.” She angrily stripped her gloves off and fell into the guest chair in front of his desk. Jack cautiously retreated back around the desk and say down, leaning forward to listen carefully. His heart was pounding as to the possibilities of what could possibly be worse then what had already occured.

“What's happened Rosie?”, he asked gently. He could tell she had not been sleeping well and her usual impeccably turned out appearance seemed more careless. No amount of makeup could mask the deep dark circles under her eyes or the stress lines etched around her eyes and mouth. And she was trying very hard to keep her composure as well, he could see she was fighting off tears.

“Well, you recall Judge Henderson?”, she sniffed. Jack was taken aback.

“Of course, he heard our divorce petition.” Jack was dreading what was coming next.

“I've just heard from my barrister's office that Judge Henderson is one of those caught up in this whole blackmail scandal. From... from that box of evidence that Madame Lyon had.” Her pallor was now matched by the colour draining from Jack's face.

“You can't be serious!” Jack protested.

“How could you not know, Jack? Did you not investigate all the names of the high ranking officials that were compromised?” Rosie was a little hysterical now, and getting angrier, as if this whole mess was Jack's fault.

“I had no time, Rosie. As soon as the arrests were made I was immediately taken off the case. I have too personal a connection. Russel Street... the mayor... the premier... everyone does not want me within a five mile radius of it. How could I know Henderson was one of them?”

Rosie was not mollified. “My barrister says they are going through all the court cases the Judge has heard for the last year or two, as a result of being involved with... father.” She almost couldn't finish the last sentence. Jack's mind was whirling. He knew George had arranged to have his friend hear their divorce petition, so as to see it was handled efficiently, without fuss and most importantly discreetly.

“So, what does that mean? What is your barrister saying?” Jack was in a daze.

“He's saying that our decree nisi is in jeopardy, not to mention the decree absolute.“

Jack just looked at her, blinking several times, not quite sure what he was hearing. Rosie could tell he was not taking anything in so she leaned across the desk and emphasized her next comment by poking a finger at the blotter before him. 

“We are still married Jack!”

***********************

“Can I get you another whisky, Jack?” Phryne lounged back on her chaise in a lovely pale blue shift, her feet tucked up under her. The lights in the parlour were low and the two detectives were enjoying a much needed peaceful evening after a lovely dinner, where Mr. Butler had outdone himself .... again. In fact he had made some of their favourites in recognition of a tough few days for two people the butler was quite fond of. Jack sat comfortably beside her, in fact he had been so bold as to remove his suit jacket, loosen his tie and roll his shirt sleeves up. Phryne was quite delighted to see her Inspector uncharacteristically mellow, if not totally relaxed.

“I better not, Miss Fisher, it has been quite the day and I am so emotionally drained right now that it might go to my head.” That got the lady detective's attention.

“What's the matter Jack, you look a little solemn. Not surprising, I suppose, after everything that has happened.” Phryne ventured quietly.

Jack gave her that side eye he always gave her when he wanted to convey that he knew what she was trying to do. His heart was actually telling him to stay and unburden himself. God, how he wanted to stay. He felt so vulnerable right now that he would so much welcome some comfort. Especially after the maelstrom that was his day today and after a week like no other.

“I got remarried today. Sort of.” Jack dropped his eyes and it reminded her of that moment when he had confessed he had thought her dead in the motorcar crash that had killed Gertie. Phryne is not often shocked but it was like a blow to her solar plexus. Her face fell as she sat up.

She didn't know what to say, only that she felt... she felt... devastated. She knew that Rosie had leaned on Jack on the days after her father's and fiance's arrest. Had she and Jack become close again, reconciled after experiencing such a shared trauma?

“Congratulations... I... ” She started but was still speechless. Jack finally dared to look up, his hands on his knees and was startled as what he saw in her eyes, on her face. He moved over closer and took her hands in his.

“No... no... I am not married Phryne. I am not explaining this very well. It has all been so overwhelming.”

“How can you be remarried and not married, Jack? I don't understand.” she searched his face for some explanation that would stop her stomach from clenching.

“Rosie came to see me today. One of Fletcher's blackmail victim's was one Judge Henderson, a friend of George's. He heard our divorce petition. Rosie was beside herself because her barrister told her that the Law Society was investigating the Judge and she understood from their conversation that our divorce would be nullified.”

“Oh dear. How awful for her. And for you Jack.” she removed one of her hands from his and placed it on his cheek. He welcomed the touch and turned his face towards it. 

“It was gut wrenching Phryne, I cannot lie. I care about Rosie's well being, but I do not love her... in a way she deserves.” Jack lowered his head again and Phryne could tell he was berating himself once more for not being the man his former wife needed.

Jack continued roughly.

“Anyways, I called my barrister and he was able to clarify everything.” Phryne held her breath. “The Judge may be under investigation regarding criminal court cases, but not magistrate's court. Rosie's barrister was incorrect or she may have misunderstood his message. My divorce is unquestionably legal and fait accompli.”

“Maybe she heard what she wanted to hear. Are you sure Jack that there is no hope of a future with Rosie?”

He looked up at her and huffed, “My heart rests elsewhere, Phryne, and ... 'I love with so much of my heart that none is left to protest.' ”

Phryne's breath hitched and she moved a lock of hair that had fallen over his brow. “You _have_ had quite a day, Inspector. Why don't I get you another drink and two battle weary survivors can commiserate. And if I have to tuck you into one of the guest rooms, let me. Let me do this for you tonight.”

Jack waited a moment, then nodded as he looked at her with grateful eyes, drained the remaining mouthful and proffered his glass for a refill.


End file.
